Toxic Vows, Filthy Pleasures

chapters 13

Ava's POV

I woke up slowly, my body aching in ways I had never known before. The silk sheets clung to my skin, cool and smooth against the lingering heat that still hummed through my veins. Every muscle felt used, deliciously sore, a reminder of the hands, mouths, and bodies that had worshipped me for hours. My thighs trembled slightly as I shifted, and a soft gasp escaped my lips at the tenderness between them. God, what had I done?

The rose lay on the pillow beside me, its deep red petals still vibrant, its scent faint but intoxicating. I reached out and traced a finger along its stem, careful of the thorns. The note from last night was gone, but its words echoed in my mind: *We know you’re awake.* My stomach twisted with a confusing mix of fear and excitement. I should have felt shame. I *did* feel shame. But beneath it burned something alive, something hungry that I couldn’t push down no matter how hard I tried.

I forced myself out of bed, my legs unsteady on the plush carpet. The mansion was quiet, sunlight filtering through heavy curtains. Derek would be up soon, expecting his perfect wife to play her role. I couldn’t let him see the flush still lingering on my cheeks or the way my body moved like it now belonged to someone else. To *three* someone elses.

I slipped into the bathroom, turning the shower as hot as I could stand. Steam filled the marble space as I stepped under the spray, letting the water cascade over my breasts, down my stomach, between my thighs. I washed carefully, but every touch brought flashes of memory Marcus’s commanding grip, Damien’s wicked tongue, Lucas’s intense gaze. I bit my lip hard, trying to silence the soft moan that rose in my throat.

*You can’t do this again,* I told myself. *It was one night. A mistake.*

But even as I thought it, my body disagreed.

I dressed in a modest cream blouse and knee-length skirt, something conservative enough to hide the marks I was sure lingered on my skin. My hair went up in a neat chignon, makeup light to cover the faint shadows under my eyes. When I looked in the mirror, the woman staring back seemed almost normal. Almost.

I made my way downstairs, heart pounding with every step. The kitchen smelled of fresh coffee and warm pastries. One of the maids nodded politely as she arranged a tray. I poured myself a cup of coffee, hands trembling slightly, and tried to focus on the routine—checking the day’s schedule, making sure Derek’s favorite breakfast items were prepared. Anything to avoid thinking about the three men sleeping under the same roof.

“Avoiding us already, beautiful?”

The deep, smooth voice stopped me cold. I turned to find Marcus leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest. He wore a tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled up to reveal powerful forearms. His dark eyes locked onto mine, intense and knowing, like he could see straight through my careful facade.

“Marcus,” I whispered, glancing around quickly. “You can’t be here like this. Derek could walk in any second.”

He crossed the space between us in two strides, cornering me gently against the marble counter. One large hand came up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “Last night changed everything, Ava. You felt it. I know you did.” His voice dropped lower, sending shivers down my spine. “The way you came apart for us… the way you begged. That wasn’t a mistake.”

My breath hitched. “It has to be. This is insane. I’m married”

“To a man who doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.” He leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine. “Tell me you haven’t been thinking about us all morning. Tell me your body isn’t still aching for more.”

I couldn’t lie. Not when he was this close. “Marcus… please.”

He kissed me then slow, possessive, and devastatingly tender. His mouth moved against mine like he had all the time in the world, tongue teasing until I melted into him. One of his hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, while the other tangled gently in my hair. The kiss deepened, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just his taste, his warmth, the solid strength of his body.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against mine. “We’re not going anywhere, Ava. And neither are you. Not really.” He stepped away just as footsteps echoed down the hall, leaving me flushed and breathless.

I barely had time to compose myself before Derek entered the dining room, followed closely by Damien and Lucas. My husband looked impeccable in his suit, already barking orders into his phone. He barely glanced at me as he sat at the head of the table.

“Coffee, Ava. And make sure the eggs are perfect today,” he said dismissively, not even looking up.

I moved to serve, hyper-aware of every movement. Damien slid into the seat to my right, his wicked grin flashing as he leaned back casually. Under the table, his hand found my knee, squeezing gently before sliding higher up my thigh.

“Morning, Mrs. Sterling,” he drawled, voice light but eyes dark with mischief. “Sleep well? You look a little… flushed.”

“Damien,” I warned under my breath, trying to pour coffee steadily. My hand shook anyway.

He chuckled softly, fingers tracing circles on my inner thigh through my skirt. “What? I’m just making conversation. Derek, your wife makes the best coffee I’ve had in ages. Don’t you think she deserves a compliment?”

Derek grunted, eyes still on his phone. “She does her job. That’s enough.”

Lucas sat across from me, quiet as always, but his piercing gaze held mine. He didn’t touch me, but the intensity in his eyes felt more intimate than any hand. When Derek stepped out briefly to take a call, Damien’s touch grew bolder, slipping under the hem of my skirt.

“You’re still wet from last night, aren’t you?” he whispered, leaning close so only I could hear. “I can feel the heat. Bet if I pushed these fingers higher, I’d find you soaked for us.”

“Stop,” I breathed, but my legs parted slightly despite myself. “This is dangerous.”

“That’s what makes it fun, baby.” His fingers brushed higher, teasing. “Tell me how much you want my mouth on you again. Right here under the table.”

Marcus watched from the other side, a small smirk playing on his lips. Lucas simply said, softly, “Be careful with her, Damien. She’s still processing.”

I stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over my chair. “I’ll get more pastries.”

In the kitchen, I gripped the counter, breathing hard. My body was betraying me, aching for their touch even as my mind screamed caution. When I returned, Lucas had left something by my plate a small, leather-bound book of poetry. I opened it discreetly and found a note in elegant handwriting: *For the nights when words say what touches cannot. Lucas*

My heart clenched. It was thoughtful, intimate. Not just lust. Something more.

The rest of breakfast passed in a haze of forced small talk. Derek droned on about business deals, completely oblivious to the undercurrents. Damien kept up his teasing comments, each one laced with double meaning. Marcus watched me protectively. Lucas’s gift burned in my lap.

As soon as I could escape, I retreated to my private sitting room upstairs, locking the door. The files I had taken from Derek’s office lay hidden in my drawer. With trembling hands, I pulled them out and began reading.

Pages of numbers, coded messages, shipment logs. My stomach turned as I pieced together fragments drugs, money laundering, threats. Derek wasn’t just unfaithful. He was dangerous.

Then I flipped to the last page.

A photograph slipped out. My breath caught in my throat.

It showed Marcus, younger but unmistakable, shaking hands with Derek in what looked like a warehouse. Dated almost two years ago. On the back, handwritten notes: *Kane reliable. Use for enforcement.*

One of them Marcus had been linked to my husband’s crimes long before that night at the bar.

My hands shook as I stared at the image. The rose on my pillow suddenly felt less like a gift and more like a warning.

What the hell had I gotten myself into?